I had to trust God A LOT in Zanzibar, and for many reasons, but today I will only give you one: that He would get me to my destination safely.
It was the weekend and the Zanzibar International Film Festival just began so I decided to go by myself. It was quite an experience and the blog post for that will be coming soon! Anyway, the event lasted until late in the night. Around 11:30PM is when the movie ended, but I was really eager to stick around longer for the music festival portion. So, I waited… and waited… and waited. But of course this is Africa and time is optional, not mandatory.
I ended waiting until 11:50PM (the music was supposed to start exactly when the movie ended). Finally, it dawned on me that maybe I should ask when the last dala dala (bus) would be leaving. I leaned into the older gentleman beside me and in broken Swahili managed to wiggle out “Shikamoo, Unasema Kiingereza? (Hello, do you speak English).” Thank goodness he did. I asked about the dala dala and he told me that the last one leaves at 12:00. By this time it was 11:55!
The dala dala is not the luxury experience of an NYC taxi, it does not stop in front of you, I had to walk to it. And it was not around the corner.
I politely thanked the older gentleman and dashed out of the festival like a seasoned Olympian, but it didn’t matter how fast I moved because I had no idea how to find the dala dala station. When I came to the festival the sun was still out, by this time the night had already claimed every familiar road and landmark as its own. I was navigating through a prayer. Literally. I prayed for the Holy Spirit to direct my steps.
For a while it seemed like I was headed the right way… until I noticed that I was not.
I had zero clue where I was.
I had bad cell phone reception.
I had no clue as to what my stop was even called, thus taking a taxi was pointless.
I had no one with me as a woman in a male-dominant society.
Then, just when I thought I would be sleeping under some tree for the night He reminded me that He was there and sent me…
*Hey! This story doesn’t end here. Trust me. I know how hard it is to maintain focus on such long blog posts, so I decided to break this story into two parts. Be on the look to see exactly what I mean by “building trust.”
This Pen Is My Passport. 